Tried & True (THIRDS 10) - Page 58

“No? Okay. Me first, then.” Ash approached, and Sloane readied himself. He waited patiently as he’d been taught to do.

Over the course of the last few months he’d been trained in all kinds of different martial arts and combat techniques along with Dex, until they each found a fighting style that worked best for them. For Dex it had been easier. He was fast, adaptable, and far more flexible than Sloane. Sloane was bulkier, heavier, and although he could be quick, his movements were better suited to techniques that required less-fancy moves and more focus on precision and force. Moves that aimed to get the job done as quickly as possible and fewer of them. So when Ash threw a fierce left hook, Sloane dodged it, slapping his arm away and retaliating with a right hook to the ribs.

Ash cursed under his breath, quickly pulling back.

“Come on, Ash. You left yourself wide-open,” Sloane teased.

Ash came at him again, keeping close to Sloane, who worked to anticipate Ash’s moves. He’d watched Ash train and fight for years. He was familiar with Ash’s strengths and weaknesses. Ash liked to mix things up, and although his left was almost as strong as his right, he t

ended to favor his right. Out in the field, they didn’t come across a lot of perps trained in CQC, at least not until lately. For someone as big as Ash, he moved fast, but most importantly, he hit hard. Sloane was quick to block Ash’s fists, making sure to stay away from Ash’s elbows and knees. They moved around the ring, and Sloane could see Ash getting frustrated with Sloane not only constantly blocking him but not hitting back.

Ash struck with a fierce combination of left and right hooks, the last of which Sloane ducked under, rolled, then popped up behind Ash and kicked at the back of his knee, sending Ash down onto one knee. With a growl, Ash got to his feet and turned.

Sloane held his arms out to his sides and shrugged, his grin smug.

Ash laughed. “Okay. So that’s how it is. I was gonna go easy on you, but now”—he hit his gloves together—“it’s on.”

Sloane grinned. “I hear a lot of trash talk, and yet I’m still looking pretty.”

Ash threw his head back and laughed, and it was a good sound to hear. With a nod, he pulled off his gloves and tossed them out of the ring. Sloane smirked and followed his lead. This was the Ash he knew and loved. Confident, cocky, and ready to take on the world.

Ash charged, relentless in his attack, and Sloane put his training to the test, blocking Ash’s punches, anticipating the blows by what he knew of Ash and his fighting technique. Sweat dripped down Sloane’s face as he protected himself from an elbow to the head, uppercuts, punches to his ribs and kidneys. The more Sloane blocked, the fiercer Ash became. Lion Therians had incredible stamina. They would fight until their dying breath, and Ash was no exception. He was fueled by his inability to land a hit. Sloane knew if he kept this up, he’d eventually tire Ash out, but what would be the fun in that?

Sloane brought his hands down on Ash’s fists, smacking them away from his body before kicking out, sending Ash reeling. Sloane moved in close, striking Ash in the chest, hearing his sharp intake of breath. He threw his arms around Ash’s waist, lifted him off his feet, turned, and brought them both hard against the canvas with Sloane landing on top of him. He tried to roll off, but Ash was quick.

“Fuck!” Ash threw his arm around Sloane’s neck, wrapped his leg around Sloane’s waist.

“Are you… seriously… trying to fucking knock me out?” Sloane asked, feeling his airway constricted. He grabbed Ash’s wrist and pulled down with all his strength, bringing his chin toward his chest as far as he could go, giving himself more breathing room.

“That’s right, fucker. You’re not the only one who’s learned a few new tricks.”

Sloane laughed. He managed to roll onto his side, bringing Ash with him, and got to his knees.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ash growled.

“This.” Sloane lifted them both just enough to make it hurt when he dropped down.

“Fucker!” Ash ground out, but he didn’t let go of his death grip on Sloane.

Sloane punched Ash in the ribs, receiving a smack in the head. “Ouch! What the fuck?”

“That’s what you get for leaving me, asshole.”

“I’m not… leaving,” Sloane grunted, punching Ash again on his side.

“Fuck! Stop doing that.”

“Then let go.”

“Fuck you!”

Sloane rolled over, pushed up again, and dropped them, landing on Ash again.

“Motherfucker,” Ash laughed.

“Remember when we were kids, and we’d push our beds together so we could pretend we were wrestlers?” Sloane pushed at Ash’s arm, but Ash was having none of it.

“I recall kicking your ass,” Ash replied, panting. His grip loosened, and Sloane smiled.

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